Hips Don't Lie
by Ika Inku
Summary: Connor and Aveline couldn't keep their hands off each other. Not that either of them did. [Connorline, Sexual Sunday offerings]
1. Hips Don't Lie

**Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft**

* * *

Having gotten his first glimpse of New Orleans from the window inside the climate controlled airplane, Connor was instantly dreading taking his first step outside. He could practically _see_ the humidity in the air. He instantly wanted to go back to Massachusetts where the summers, though hot, where much more bearable. He couldn't, he had promised to spend Aveline's birthday with her and her birthday was today. He ran his hand through his hair, wondering why he didn't let his mother cut it before his trip down here.

"God damn," he swore when he went outside the airport to get the rental car and the wall of humidity hit him smack dab in the chest. The water in the air seemed to amplify the scents of sweat, gas, and the smog of the city. He nearly gagged at it and each breath seemed to be a struggle. His phone rang in his pocket; he fished it out, grumbling as to why cargo shorts had so many bloody pockets when half of them only served to be mini-black holes for junk. "Dad, I made it safely!" Connor shouted into the phone.

"Dad?" came an annoyed female voice. "Well, I know where _your_ priorities lie, Connor Kenway."

"Aveline!" Connor felt his cheeks heat up or was that just because he was sweating. "Hi, I'm sorry, I was expecting my dad to call me and chew me out for not instantly calling him as soon as the plane hit the pavement."

Aveline chuckled. "It's okay, so I take it you made it alright?"

"Remind me again why you wanted to study in New Orleans? Harvard has a really good business department."

"Because I love the heat, the sun, the musky smell of the bayou, I'm a Louisiana girl, Connor," Aveline sighed. "When will you be here?"

"Shortly, if I can find the rental car," he said as he began to head towards the maze of shiny cars. "Why couldn't you pick me up, again?"

"School, remember? Just because I have a boyfriend coming to town doesn't excuse me from showing my professors my pretty face for the day."

"I'm sure they would've understood," Connor said, finding the rental car. He duffle bag on the ground and fished for his key one of his pockets.

"Not my economics professor! She's a bitch!" Aveline hissed. "I gotta go now."

"Aaw, but… who will keep me sane? It's like a million degrees out here!"

"It's only eighty-three, Connor," Aveline said.

"A million degrees!"

"You're being overly dramatic, I'll be done with classes by the time you get here, bye-bye," Aveline said.

"Bye sweetie," he said and hung up after she did. "Ugh! I hate Louisiana!" he growled and banged his head against the car three times before unlocking it and getting in. He groaned as he sat there in the car that was as hot as a roasting oven. He pulled his phone out and shot a quick text to his parents and grandfather, letting them know he got down to New Orleans just fine. He started the car and the first thing he was turn on the AC. "Aaah, air conditioning!" he sighed, leaning back in the seat and just letting the cold air wash over him. His phone pinged and he looked at it. It was from his grandfather.

 _Give it to her good tonight, Connor lad! Girl wants that Kenway D!_

Connor stared at the text message from his grandfather and he swore his face was red as a tomato. "I'm just not gonna respond," Connor muttered to himself as he turned on the built in navigation system and punched in the address to the University of New Orleans. He turned the key to start the engine. "Please drive to the highlighted route," the navigation system said.

"Yeah, yeah," Connor grumbled. He was just glad that the car had air conditioning and that he didn't have to walk to the university.

* * *

By the time, evening rolled around Connor wanted to hop back on the first plane to Boston. He nearly rear-ended a rather large black man during a delightful traffic jam on his way, the man felt it was necessary to get out of his car and yell at Connor in a thick Louisiana accent that Connor could barely understand. Aveline was held up in class when he got there, so he had sit in the car with the air conditioning going. His father called, giving him a lecture on… Connor forgot what exactly; all he remembered was Hickey in the background yelling encouragement about pleasurable endeavors. "I'm not a fucking virgin!" Connor snarled into the phone.

"Sorry, son, what was that?" Haytham had asked after he had yelled at Hickey to mind his own business. Connor had come up with a quick lie, he had a feeling if his father found out he and Aveline had had sex prior to her leaving for New Orleans, he'd give his father a heart attack.

Needless to say, Connor only wanted to sit on Aveline's couch and watch cooking shows, sipping a cold beer and eating a microwave TV dinner. Not exactly, the idea of a birthday dinner Aveline had planned, and it wasn't what Connor was getting that night. "C'mon, we're going out," Aveline said.

"But it's hot," Connor whined, pouting and shoving his hands into his pockets, lolling his head back against the back of the couch. He liked her apartment, it was roomy and cold because of the AC.

"It's my birthday, I don't want to be cooped up in here," Aveline said, pulling her hair back. It was done up in a series of cornrows, beads and little charms knotted into her hair at the end. She had pulled it into a ponytail with a thick red scrunchie. "Don't I look nice?" she asked, gesturing to her outfit. Connor lifted his head and stared at her.

Aveline was wearing booty shorts with sparling back pockets, and a loose fitting top that revealed her flat stomach and tops of her shoulders. Gold bangles hung from her wrists and tiny hoop earrings hung from her earlobes. Her lips were painted a dark wine red and her eyeshadow was a dusky gold color. Connor swallowed.

"We could skip dinner and sightseeing, and just work on getting you out of those shorts," he said.

"Nope!" she grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him to his feet. Her slender frame belied her strength. "We're going out, and you're gonna eat good Cajun food. Better than all that bland Northeastern stuff," she said.

"Hey, Northeastern food isn't bland," Connor protested, "I happen to like my dad's clam chowder."

"Here, put this on," she said handing him a black T-shirt with a Jolly Roger on the front.

"Beatings will continue until moral improves?" Connor arched a brow as he read the back of the T-shirt, which had an even larger Jolly Roger on it the motto.

"Yeah, I thought you might find it funny, put it on," she said. Connor sighed, took his current shirt off and pulled on the clearly tourist T-shirt.

"This is something my grandfather would wear," he muttered, once he finished putting it on. "How do I look?" he asked.

"Not bad," Aveline said, "just like the dork I love."

Connor scowled. "Let's go," he said as Aveline chuckled, and threaded her fingers through his. "This is my unhappy face, just fyi."

"Of course, Connor, of course," she stood up on her tiptoes and pecked his lips.

* * *

Connor will have to admit that New Orleans truly came alive at night. Aveline knew the city like the back of her hand and lead him through the twisting and turning streets; a jazz group on every corner, filling the air with the brassy whines of a trumpet or the sultry mellow tones of a saxophone. It was still bloody hot, and the running theme was to see how few articles of clothing you could wear yet still be presentable in mostly polite company. "Now this," Aveline said, as their waiter put down two bowls of a grey-green soup, "is real food."

"What is it?" Connor asked, poking his meal with suspicion. A shrimp rolled up in the dish. "Doesn't look like clam chowder."

"It's not," Aveline said. "It's seafood gumbo. My uncle Agaté makes a mean seafood gumbo."

"It looks like something vomited up the ocean," Connor said. Aveline frowned. "What, I'm just saying."

"Eat. It. Connor." Aveline growled. Connor sighed, knowing that when she took that tone, it was either do it or suffer the wrath of heaven _and_ hell. He dug his spoon into it and stuck the bite of gumbo and rice into his mouth.

It was spicy, yet the heat of the dish was welcomed, complementing the heat of the night. The rice added a cooling factor to the otherwise spicy gumbo. "This is good," he mumbled between bites. Aveline simply smirked as he continued to eat his dinner.

"Toldja, you'll never eat clam chowder again," Aveline told him. "This is _real_ food, right here in the beautiful _Nouvelle Orleans_!"

After dinner, Aveline took him through the French Quarter, pointing out iconic things to him and telling him about Mardi Gras. "Are we going to see that?" he asked.

"No, that's in February," she said. "You should come back down and see for yourself, some people have the craziest costumes."

"What's the weirdest one you've seen?"

"An erected penis hat," Aveline said, her face perfectly straight. Connor snorted in amusement.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Even have a picture," she said and fished out her phone and showed it to him. Indeed, there was a man, his head entirely covered, save for his face by a giant erected penis.

"I've seen everything now," he said, throwing up his hands.

"Well, not everything," Aveline cooed, pressing up against him, "you still haven't seen me dance."

Connor chuckled, resting his hands on her hips. "Oh? I think I can use my imagination," he replied.

"You could, but wouldn't it be better if you actual saw me dance?" she asked, pressing up against him and moving her hips from side to side. Connor hissed.

"Aveline," he whispered.

"Hmm?" she looked at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Not in the middle of the street," he whispered.

"You're no fun," she said, but pulled away and took his hand, leading him through the streets until they reached her apartment again.

* * *

Connor pulled off the silly pirate shirt, as soon the door was close, while Aveline opened the window letting in the hot sticky breeze. She turned around and eyed him hungrily. "I see you've been working out," she purred. Connor felt his face flush.

"Of course," he said, taking his watch off, and closing the gap between him and Aveline. He pulled her flushed against his chest and wasted no time in capturing her lips with his. She moaned, gripping his shoulders, her blunt nails digging into his flesh. He growled and walked her to the bed. He pulled away only when her legs hit the bed and with a gentle push, sent her flying onto her back, bouncing once she hit the bed. She giggled cutely.

"Connor," she breathed, beckoning him towards her. He crawled towards her, planting a kiss on her lips, and unbuttoning those cute little shorts on her. He hooked his fingers around the belt loops and tugged them down, Aveline doing the rest by kicking them off her ankles. He traced the lacy string of her panties with a finger, before dipping his head down and kissing her stomach. She giggled.

He shuddered when her hands ran down his back, scratching lightly here and there. Her fingers slipped further down his pants, squeezing his butt. He grunted softly, the sound muffled since her lips where on him, teeth nibbling at his lip.

They continued to undress each other, kissing and nipping more exposed skin. Jazz drifted up through the window on the humid breeze that came through the window. It drowned out the soft grunts and lusty sighs that escaped their lips as they made loved.

* * *

Connor woke the next day, blankets tangled around his legs and Aveline snuggled up against his side and the hot sticky breeze drifting in through the window. He glanced at Aveline, who was still sleeping. A smile graced his lips and he pulled her close. "Hmmm…" she opened her eyes slightly.

"Morning." He nuzzled her neck, planting a kiss behind her ear.

"Connor, too early," she whined and buried her face into his bare chest. He chuckled, relaxing into the pillows.

"It's never too early," he teased, rubbing her hip. She jabbed him in the gut, forcing a grunt out of him. His phone decided it would be a good time to ring. He swore, rolled over and found his shorts, and fished it out of the tangled heap. He hit the button for speaker phone and set it on the nightstand before snuggling up against Aveline. "Hello?" he asked.

"Connor? Connor! Connor, good morning, lad! Didja give it to her good last night?" Edward's gravelly voice came through. Connor's eyes popped open.

"Grandpa!"

"Connor?" Haytham asked. Connor felt his blood run cold and he could feel Aveline's eyes on him.

"Ya gave it to her good last night, didn'tcha lad? Gave her the Kenway D!"

"Grandpapleasestoptalking!" Connor said in a rush.

"Connor, can you hear me?" Haytham asked. "When are you going to be home? Your Aunt Jenny will be in town on Tuesday and she wants to see you, she hasn't seen you since the seventh grade."

"Haytham, bother the lad about that another day, today he's a full-fledged man!" Edward said. Connor wished an alligator would come and eat him right now.

"What's going on?" Aveline asked.

"I hate my family," Connor muttered, wishing for the carefree days when his parents were separated and he got to live almost solely with his mother.

"A full-fledged man?" Haytham's confused voice came through. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"Aveline popped the lad's cherry last night!" Edward said, hooting with laughter. Aveline snickered next to him.

"This isn't funny Aveline," Connor hissed.

"Yes, it is!" she cackled.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" it was his mother.

"Ista! Please, uh…" Connor stopped, unable to figure out what he wanted his mother to do.

"I love you, and I'll make sure your father doesn't hurt himself or kill your grandfather," Ziio said.

"Thanks Ista," he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Just remember, condoms cost less than babies!" Ziio said and hung up the phone. Connor wanted to die from mortification.

"Aveline, just leave me in the swamp today. Rub chicken all over me, and just leave me in the swamp for the gators to eat," he said.

"No," she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him. "It'll be alright Connor, I promise."

"I love you," he sighed, nuzzling her neck.

"I love you too."

"Happy birthday Aveline."

* * *

 ***Eyes fangirls* Oh what the hell! Here! Have it! *tosses story into their ravenous maw***

 **Fangirls: SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!**

 **I hate writing smut. It was supposed to be more um… steamy… yeah that didn't work out. Speaking of steam, I found this awesome AU where Connor is a WATERBENDER! OMG! I LOVE ATLA! CONNOR AS A WATERBENDER GIVES ME LIFE!**

 **My dad makes an awesome seafood gumbo! I love it!**

 **And Haytham makes clam chowder. He'll always be the best at making clam chowder.**

 **Well, happy Sexual Sunday everyone.**

 **Save an author; leave a review!**

 **-Nemo**

 **PS: Quick note on the background. Haytham and Ziio dated, then broke up and Ziio found out she was pregnant after said break-up. She had Connor, and then when Connor was around seven, Ziio asked what he wanted for his birthday and he said a dad, so reluctantly Ziio contacts Haytham and informs him about Connor and tells him to come over for a birthday party. Thus, they start seeing each other and get back together, Connor spending time between both of his parents. Ziio moved in with Haytham when Connor was a Freshman in high school, which is when Connor met Aveline, a junior and they started dating. Edward had been living with Haytham since he retired. Jenny lives in England and visits every so often.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft**

* * *

"You are alright?" Connor asked, stopping beside Aveline as she leaned over the railing and vomited her dinner. The ship surged upward as a swell hit, leaning to the left. Connor bent his knee, moving with the motion of the ship. Aveline gagged before throwing up again. She shuddered, squatting down, hands still clinging to the railing of the ship.

"How do you stand it? The constant motion?" she asked, a weary look in her eyes. Connor clasped his hands and gave a little shrug, turning his gaze out to the endless horizon.

"You do get used to it," he replied. "I enjoy being out at sea. It is peaceful." The wind gusted, snapping the canvas sails and the ship surged forward. The sound of the waves breaking against the wooden hull of the _Aquila_ , the smell of the brine in the air and the shanties the men sang as they work, all sent a thrill through his body. His father wasn't a sailor, but the journals did mention his grandfather being a man of the sea. Connor wondered if the sea was in his blood.

"I will never get use to this," Aveline said, with a shake of her head. "We've been sailing for two weeks now, I think by the time I get to New Orleans I'll never leave it again."

"You did not like Boston?" Connor asked, feeling a little disappointed that she didn't enjoy the city he took pride in protecting. Aveline shook her head.

"I enjoyed Boston, even if it lacked culture," Aveline chuckled, "no. I don't like this accursed ship!"

"Shh," Connor hissed, crouching beside her as he waved his hand to shush her. "If Faulkner hears you talking like that he will get upset. Bad enough that you are onboard, he thinks women bring bad luck."

Aveline snorted. "Bad luck? It is just a boat—" the rest of her words where cut off when Connor pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Don't call her a boat either, she is a ship," he stressed, and looked around to make sure Faulkner wasn't around before lowering his hand away from Aveline's face. "She is a ship," he said again. He stared at Aveline for a few moments, before dropping his gaze and began to pick at the dirt and blood beneath his fingernails.

"My, my, _le capitaine_ ," Aveline purred, "I never realized how, hmm… how do the English say, dashing."

Connor looked up at her, staring like a startled deer. "Uh," he said ungracefully, "thank you." He stood and offered her his hand. "There is some mint tea in my cabin; I'll make you a pot. It helps settle the stomach."

"And a gentleman," Aveline said, taking Connor's hand and getting to her feet, "a shocking surprise, considering the English are nothing more than brutes."

"My mother and Achilles taught me how to be respect to everyone," Connor said, "including women." He began to head to his cabin. "Wittle, man the helm. I am heading to my cabin for the night with Miss de Grandpré."

"Aye, sir!" Wittle replied.

"Yet is your father not English?" Aveline asked, following Connor towards his cabin. She stumbled towards him when a swell rocked the ship. His reflexes were sharp, for he spun around and caught her by the elbows. They stared at each other and once again, Connor felt that alluring spark between them that threatened to make his cheek flush.

"He is, but he…" Connor stopped unsure what to say. He wondered what Haytham had taught, very little because he had only met the man briefly. "He is a man of conviction," Connor finally settled on saying and in a tone that put an end to the topic of conversation.

"This tea," Aveline began, "it'll help with the seasickness?"

"Oh, yes," Connor replied let Aveline go and continued towards his cabin, pausing only long enough to catch a passing deck hand to inform him that he'll be needing hot water for tea.

* * *

Connor lit a few candles once inside his cabin and settled Aveline down on the bed. There was a knock on the door. Connor went to open it, accepting the pot of hot water from the deck and before closing the door. The ship creaked and groaned as it rocked along its course. Connor set the pot down, before opening a cabinet and extracting a teapot from within and some mint tea. He poured the hot water and began to brew the tea. "Please, make yourself comfortable, Miss de Grandpré," Connor said.

"You can call me Aveline," she replied, removing her hat and weapons. "We are both assassins." Aveline said, watching Connor remove his coat and hat. He stood before her in nothing more than his trousers and white tunic, the ties at the top undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin beneath. She licked her lips. "No need to stand on such formalities."

Connor swallowed and adverted his gaze. "Very well, I will call you Aveline as you requested." He turned and poured two cups of tea. He handed one to her before sipping at the other one himself. "I apologize for lack of sugar."

"It's fine," Aveline said, drinking her tea. "I must tell you that I appreciate you taking time to sail me back to New Orleans."

"It is the least that I could do. Things were rather… slow, gathering information on the location of my next target. I could spare a few weeks sailing down to New Orleans."

"I appreciate it," Aveline said. Connor nodded, leaning against the desk that was cluttered with maps and charts. Aveline walked up to him, as she drained the last of her tea, before setting the cup down on the desk. "How can I ever repay you?" she placed a hand on his arm and Connor froze. "Is there a way I could repay you?"

Connor swallowed, staring into her eyes. They were a stunning green color with flecks of grey, reminding him of the ocean. Her skin was darker than his was, though not by much and she had that fierce look in her eyes that reminded him of the eagles of home. He pulled his gaze away from her face by draining the last of his tea. "Uh," he said.

"Have you ever been kissed?" she boldly asked, looking up into Connor's face. She watched him flush, avoiding her gaze. "Hmm, _ma ch_ _è_ _re_?" She trailed her hand up his arm, caressing the curve of his neck, until it rested against his jaw. He swallowed, Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat. "Would you like to be kissed?" she purred, pressing her body against his.

"I am a warrior," he said, though it sounded like a weak confession.

"You are _le capitaine_ , with a beautiful woman before you. Or do you deny that I am beautiful?"

"No!" Connor shouted, putting both of his hands on her shoulders. "No, you are very beautiful."

"Then why are you so shy?" Aveline asked, and when Connor didn't reply realization dawned on her and she chuckled softly. "My, my, the big strong assassin has never felt a woman's touch before." She ran her hands up his chest. "I could… remedy that."

"Aveline…" Connor began, his voice strained. "Lets…" he was cut off when she boldly pressed her lips against his. Her lips were soft, with the taste of salt and mint upon them. Her tongue pressed its way between his lips, stroking his and a shuddering moan escaped his throat. He groaned when she nipped his lip and his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her against him.

He broke the kiss first, gasping for breath. "Aveline," he breathed. She smirked at him, before pulling free of his hold. He stared after her as she walked towards the bed. The ship lurched beneath his feet, and he nearly lost his balance, so fixed on the seductively beautiful assassin that was sitting on his bed.

"Connor, I'm sure you have duties about your ship," Aveline said and began to undo the buttons and ties of her uniform. Connor coughed into his hand to clear his throat.

"Faulkner and my officers can see to… the other duties," he said slowly, and he began to move towards the bed. "I was wondering, if… you could instruct me how to…"

"How to what?" Aveline arched a brow, as she tugged off her boots. Connor watched her toss them aside. "Kiss?"

"Among other things," he said, looking away. "I assume you know… such things."

"I have posed as a slave before, and sometimes the masters I pretend to serve desire certain… worldly pleasure that I must oblige them with," Aveline said. Connor couldn't read the look on her face, a mixture between disgust and loathing. "I know how to work between the sheets."

"Would you teach me?" Connor asked. Aveline laughed.

"I've never had it referred to like but, I suppose I can give you some pointers. Come here," she and Connor went over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. He returned it, hesitant at first, but soon it began more urgent, hungrier and he found himself pushing her down against the pillow of his, slipping his legs between hers.

His hands seem to know what to do on their own, slipping beneath her shirt and caressing her soft skin, tracing the scars he found. She moaned and cooed, nodding when he found a spot she really liked. Her hands traversed his body as well, his face her guide as she found his pleasure points, often burying his face in the crook of her neck when she caressed one just right, in an fruitless effort to muffle his moan.

* * *

When the light of the dawn, drifted through the cabin windows, Connor felt warm, content and rather confused. A soft murmur pulled him towards reality and he noticed that Aveline was snuggled up against his body, her shoulders bear. He stroked it, relishing in the soft skin. "Aveline," he breathed, pressing his lips to her collarbone. For the first time, he could actually see a future after he toppled the Templars; a future that involved this stunning woman that showed him the pleasures of the flesh.

Aveline stirred, opening her eyes. He smiled and she returned it and her hand found it's way into his hair. " _Bon matin_ ," Aveline whispered.

"Does that mean good morning?" Connor asked. Aveline giggled.

"Indeed," she replied and snuggled closer to him. "Don't you have to get up and show that pretty face to your crew?"

"Faulkner can—"

"Connor, lad! Rise and shine! I know you have Miss de Grandpré with ya, but you have duties to the _Aquila!_ " Faulkner shouted as he banged on the door to the cabin. Connor groaned.

"I will topside in a few moments Faulkner! Let me just get dressed!" Connor shouted, he flopped back down into the pillow, hiding his face in Aveline's hair. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Depends," Aveline said, and kissed him. "Though there is always tonight."

* * *

 **Blaaah.**

 **This is garbage. Utter garbage.**

 **I'm posting it anyway.**

 **Save an author; leave a review.**

 **-Nemo**


	3. Rainstorm

**Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft**

* * *

It is cold and icy, slighting down his back and soaking through his clothes, but she's just as wet as he is. Connor doesn't really mind the rain, and Aveline doesn't seem to be bothered by it. It's the first time she sees his face, and they somehow end up kissing. It's his first kiss.

Sensual, comforting, and he finds himself pulling Aveline closer to him, trying to merge their bodies together. He can feel her bunching up the fabric of his clothes at his back, desperately clinging to him. Aveline smells like the rain, a cool refreshing scent and he loves it. He pulls away and kisses her cheek, then her other cheek, before kissing down her throat. Slowing down when she sighs softly.

They are getting soaked, but neither one seems to care that it's a prelude to the midnight storm.

For growing up in New Orleans where there are hurricanes and tropical storms, Aveline has an issue with thunder and lightning. Connor finds this out in an amusingly cute manner, as thunder clapped overhead, shaking the house to their very foundations and a trembling female body worming her way beneath the covers and up against his side like a frightened child.

"Aveline?" Connor mumbles sleepily, opening his eyes to look at her. She stares back at him, kinky dark hair haloing about her head, her green eyes wide as she pulls his covers up over her nose. Another clap of thunder and she squeaks in fright, inching closer to him. "I did not know you were afraid of storms," he states, chuckling in amusement. Aveline swears at him in French and smacks him in the chest. He chuckles.

Lightning sunders the dark sky, illuminating the room, casting the Native American decorations Connor has hung on the walls of his room in stark relief; shadows large and eerie. "I don't like storms," Aveline mutters and Connor wraps his arms around her.

"Shh," he coos into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I will make you forget about the storm."

"Doubtful," Aveline says, eyeing the ceiling, tensing for the next clap of thunder. She doesn't hear it, for Connor makes good on his word. Distracting her with lips and sweet little words made for silence not talk, and his strong warm hands.

Aveline finds her pajama top and bottoms gone, expertly removed by the devilish hunk in bedside her. "Connor," she mumbles, running a hand through his hair, feeling the braid by his ear, the one his mother did and the beads she wove lovingly into his hair.

"Relax, the storm will be over soon," Connor whispers, kissing her exposed shoulder. "I promise the storm will be over soon."

Aveline never gets a chance to reply for soon she's gasping in rapture; Connor's hands finding and messaging her breasts, which seem to fit oh-so-perfectly in his hands. Rough thumb-pad graces over her nipple and she gasps, as lightning flashes across the sky, she doesn't hear the answering thunder. Connor's kissing her, drinking in her sigh of pleasure as his fingers find their way between her legs.

The wind is howling outside, but Aveline doesn't hear it. All she hears is Connor's heavy breathing in her ear, and the own fast thudding of her heart, the bed squeaking in time with Connor's thrusts. He's so good with his mouth, and she claws little red furrows in his back, coaxing hissing mutterings of delight from him. He hikes her leg up higher, and the thunder that goes unheard by both of them drowns out her yelp of pleasure.

She finds her peak, as the storm lets out one last desperate peel of thunder. She bites her fingers to muffle the cry, but she knows someone probably heard her. At least Connor is quieter about his rapture, grunting softly into her neck as he peaks.

Moonlight peeks in on them, cuddling beneath the blankets, Connor running a finger up and down her arm as she traces nonsense designs along his pec. "Still afraid of storms?" he asks her in a teasing voice. She sighs and kisses the tip of his chin.

"Not with you beside me, _mon amour_ ," Aveline whispers, resting her head in the crook of Connor's neck. Her eyes grow heavy, and Connor pulls the blanket up to cover them both. There will be no more storms tonight.

* * *

 **I think I know what my problem is with writing Connorline smut.**

 **I always write for Connor's POV and he's so shy and sweet** **a virgin to boot!** **That I just can't get it right in my head writing from his POV. Maybe I should try writing from Aveline's POV next time. See if that chances.**

 **Anyway, I'm kinda pleased how this turned out. Meh. Leave me feedback. As for time period, irunno, whatever you want I guess.**

 **Save an author; leave a review.**

 **-Nemo**


	4. Shower Time

**Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft**

* * *

Aquila barked as soon as the door opened, a loud booming woof. "Aquila, shush. It's just Aveline," Connor said from the kitchen, finishing the last touches on dinner. Aveline closed the door, and he heard her drop her back, car keys jingling from the strap, into the box they had by the door.

" _Quel putain jour!_ " Aveline grumbled, as she took her shoes off and entered the kitchen. Connor eyed her, dressed in the shape hugging white logo bearing top and denim booty shorts. Her strappy heels laid discarded near the door.

"You know I don't like you working at that place," he grumbled, setting out the plates at the modest dining table they owned. "Men like Ezio ogling my girlfriend."

" _Oh, mon putain de dieu_ , Connor. It's just Hooters," Aveline pointed out. "Though I doubt working somewhere else will be safe. I mean, Evie works at the bookstore and she gets nerds ogling her. Jacob and Henry are always there to protect her 'honor'."

Connor glared at her, it was playful though, for he was having trouble hiding the smile on his lips. "How was your day sweetling?"

"Shitty as fuck," Aveline grumbled. "Yours?"

"Well, my modeling gig is going rather well."

"I'd wish you'd reconsider that modeling job," Aveline snipped, mashing her mash potatoes with her fork. "I don't like strange women eyeing my boyfriend." She giggled when Connor kicked at her beneath the table. Aquila trotted over, smelling the food and rested her chin, as best she could at the other end of the table.

"Aquila, go lay down," Connor said, his voice stern. The dog whined. "Now, girl." Aquila whined again, before huffing in defeat and retreating to her dog bed; where she lied down, resting her head on her paws and eyed the food on the table pathetically. "I better stop going to the gym then," Connor said. Aveline chuckled behind her hand, shaking her head.

"I think I'll enjoy working once I get done with business school and can actually you know, run a business. My father can't wait for me join the company."

"My father's a lawyer, but law doesn't interest me and my mother's a chef, but I'm not that good at cooking."

"Seriously Connor?" Aveline eyed her boyfriend, "You make dinner every night. It's delicious!"

"You're just being modest," Connor replied a smile on his lips, "but thank you. Unlike you, I don't burn water."

"What!" Aveline screeched. "I do _not_ burn water. Water can't burn, it boils, Connor, boils."

"You'd be surprised how many people _can't_ cook the basics. My mom volunteers as a cooking instructor at a high end kitchen store. She yells at my father in Mohawk after each lesson."

"Does he even know what she's saying?" Aveline asked. She'd highly doubted Haytham Kenway understand even ten sentences in Mohawk.

"Not a word," Connor said, cutting into his steak. "But he called me during it, and I could hear my mother in the background. Dad said that mother was telling him how much she loves him and appreciates him. How she loves being married to a lawyer looking at a bench position."

"What was she actually saying?" Aveline asked. "The steak's good."

"Thanks, Grandpa's spice rub," Connor said, "speaking of Grandpa, he says he can get us plane tickets to Nassau. Wanna go?"

"Maybe, but your mother?"

"Oh right. Mom was just complaining about how stupid people are and how she'll murder them slowly with a rusty spoon."

"Haha, bet you were laughing the entire time?"

"Oh I was," Connor chuckled. They continued to trade small talk, discussing their parents. They finished their meal, when Aveline brought up a very interesting question. "A food fight?" Connor asked, arching a brow.

"Yes, have you ever wanted to have a food fight?"

"No, not really," Connor muttered, "Mom would probably throw a fit. Grandpa would've joined in for sure…" Connor trailed off, a sad look crossing his face.

"He's not doing well?" Aveline asked.

"No, he's in the hospital again, slipped and broke his hip. Dad's taking some personal time off to help him," Connor said.

"I hope he gets better, but you know Connor… Edward is rather old. He lived a good life, he raised his son to be a good man and got to see his grandson grow up. A good fulfilling life."

"I know," Connor agreed, "it's just that… I'll miss him… Dad will miss him. I know he's not dying right now, but still… I don't want to lose my Grandpa an— " Connor stopped talking when a handful of mash potatoes hit him in the face. Aveline laughed as a glob of it fell into his lap. He wiped his face. "Really Aveline?"

"Yes!" Aveline said, being her giggles. Connor sighed, muttered something in Mohawk before grabbing the spoon in the peas and flinging the peas at her. She shrieked, Aquila perked her head up and Aveline tossed more mashed potatoes at Connor. Aquila started barking, standing up, her ears perked up and tail wagging as Connor and Aveline began throwing the left overs of their dinner at each other.

Aveline was the first to get up from the table. She bolted for the fridge. "Oh no you don't!" Connor shouted, chasing her. Aveline opened the fridge, grabbed the canister of whip cream, yanked the top off and sprayed Connor with it. He yelped, twisted out of range and threw the cupboard open, grabbing the canister of spray chees. He attacked Aveline back with it.

"Ack, Connor!" Aveline laughed, shooting whip cream at him. Connor laughed as well. Aquila was busy licking up the thrown food, tail wagging. Aveline threw away the now empty can of whip cream and tackled Connor. They rolled around in the mess of spray cheese and whip cream, before Aveline pinned Connor.

"Pinned ya," she teased, pecking his lips. "Mmm… I love whip cream," she whispered kissing him again, this time slower and longer. She pressed her hips against his, grinning when he groaned in response. "You like that?" she cooed, doing it again. Connor hissed, a pleasurable look spreading across his face. Aveline chuckled before rolling off and patting his stomach. "I call dibs on the shower."

"Hey, that's not fair," Connor whined. "Why do I have to clean it up? You started it."

"You freak out when I don't put stop back properly in _your_ kitchen." Aveline said, "Besides you have Aquila." Connor pursed his lips together as Aquila walked over to him, nudging his hand for scratches. Connor scratched his dog behind her ear.

* * *

The best thing about having a food fight was getting to take a nice long shower afterward. Connor sang softly to himself. It wasn't any real song, just one his mother made up when he was a child to teach him the parts of the body. It was in Mohawk and he remembered the one time his father sang it in English. It sounded dumb and corny.

The hot water felt nice on his skin, and he no longer smelled like food but soap. He didn't hear the door to the bathroom open nor the door to the shower. Connor nearly jumped out of his skin. Aveline giggled behind him. He turned, dark hair falling around his face, it curled slightly at the end. "Aveline what are you doing in my shower?" Connor asked, baffled and rather away that they were both naked. He didn't mind that though, for he took a long and very appreciative look at his girlfriend's body; her modest breasts, the dark tangle of curls between her legs, that coy glint in her eyes and her dark hair cascading down her chocolate skin. He swallowed, stiffening.

"I know," Aveline said, pressing her body against his, hand slipping between them to grab his hardening length. She gave a light stroke. Connor groaned, knees growing weak.

"Aveline," he whispered, the warm cascading water and her sinful touch. He groaned again when she traced her finger along the head of his erection. Aveline gave a throaty purr as she stood on her tip toes and kissed him, before trailing down to kiss his collarbone, her free hand tracing patterns on his chest, pinching and tease his nipples. Connor moaned, bucking into her hand. Her touch was sinfully delicious. He pushed her away. "Enough," he growled, a lustfully dangerous sound. He spun Aveline around and pulling her flush against him. His hard cock pressing against the small of her back. "My turn."

"Oh?" Aveline asked, grinding against Connor. He growled, hands squeezing her breasts as he kissed her neck. Aveline moaned, tilting her head to give him more access. He nipped and sucked on her throat, one hand traveling lower and lower. "Connor…" Aveline whispered, eyes fluttering close. The steady beating of the warm water tingled her skin.

"Tell me what you want," Connor purred, tongue tracing the curve of her ear. Aveline gasped, as his fingers teased the curls between her legs and his thumb brushed over her firm nipple. "Aveline."

" _Merde_ … Connor," Aveline moaned, putting one leg on the shelf in the shower. " _Tu sais ce que j'aime_." Aveline muttered. She felt Connor's chuckle against her back more than she heard it and gasped loudly when she felt Connor brush his fingers against her womanhood. One slipped inside her, while his thumb rubbed against her pearl. She whimpered, hips moving as he eased his finger in and out. She muttered low in French, hissing slightly in delight when he added a second finger. She pressed her hand against the slick wall of the shower, afraid her legs would give out. "Ratonhnhaké:ton…" she muttered.

"Say my name," Connor growled, dropping her hand to her waist and pulling her close as if he could meld their bodies together.

"C-Connor…" Aveline moaned, bucking against his hand. She tasted warm water on her tongue, but she didn't really care.

"Not that one," Connor chided, nipping her neck. He thrust his fingers again. "Say my name."

Aveline whimpered when he stopped moving his fingers. "Ratonhnhaké:ton… _s'il vous plait me baiser_."

"English Aveline," Connor said, removing his hand and turning around. "I don't know French very well." He smirked, before kissing her. He put his hands on her thighs, supple and firm beneath his hands.

"You know what I said Connor," Aveline growled, hands on his shoulders. "But if you want me to translate, fine," she tossed her head to get some of the wet hair out of her eyes. "I said: Ratonhnhaké:ton, please make love to me."

Connor chuckled, kissing her again. "I know that's not what you said," he breathed against her lips. He hoisted her up, pressing her against the wall of the shower, Aveline grabbed the shower's door frame and pressed her hand against the wall. "But I will obliged regardless of the poor translation," Connor said and thrust into her. He groaned, welcoming the warm, wet tightness of Aveline's heat. She gasped. He didn't have to wait for long when she was already demanding he move. He complied, thrusting gently at first but getting more forceful each time Aveline gave that little whimper of delight.

She removed her hand from the wall to tug at his hair and dig her nails into the flesh of his shoulder. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and they hungrily sought each other's lips. The water cascaded down Connor's back, warm and slick, like the heat between Aveline's thighs. Aveline's other hand soon found its way to his shoulder, squeezing as well until her nails dug into his flesh. Her babble was consistently more and more French. Connor knew his was close, he was close too, that coil in his gut wound tight. "Aveline… I'm… I'm…" she kissed him, cutting him off.

She came first, her cry of rapture a shuddering moan, her back arching as he womanhood clenched around his hard cock. He groaned, shuddering and thrusting quickly twice more, before coming himself; his hot seed spilling deep within her. _Thank god she's on birth control_ , Connor thought as they clung to each other, gasping for breath. Connor slowly let Aveline down, her arms around his neck as she stretched out her legs and got her feet back under her. She pecked his lips.

"I'll be waiting for you in bed," Aveline whispered, smacking his ass. Connor flushed, watching Aveline slip out of the shower. He watched her figure through the hazy whorl of the glass of the shower door grab his towel and pat herself dry. He swallowed.

"Yes, we definitely need to have more food fights," Connor muttered.

* * *

 **:3**

 **I am SO SUPER PLEASED with this. Like seriously, I can never do Connorline smut to my satisfaction! Now I finally pulled it off! (does happy dance) Yay! I hope this steams up your Tuesday evening.**

 **Also, I have a splinter in my left ringer finger. It's a hard knob of ugh, and I'm trying to get rid of it but it hurts and is bloody annoying. Also, I listened to** _ **Still Into You**_ **by Paramore while I wrote this. Probably the most ironic song to write smut too, but… who cares! :D I wrote smut! They are in their twenties.**

 **Save an author; leave a review. If you don't Connor will cry. Think about that for a moment.**

 **Nemo**

 **PS: Yes, this is sort of an apology for not updating EKGTCR, since I know you are all dying to see if Haytham gets reunited with Edward.**


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